by Line, Al K.
"Ahem. Actually there is someone out here, but don't worry, I don't bite," came a voice.
Edsel spun in a circle.
Where is he? Bloody hell, we've only just got here and we get a surprise already.
Knives were drawn, panicked looks were exchanged, and sweat began to bead brows.
"Over here," came the voice again.
They followed the sound around the exterior of the narrow stairwell that led them up to the roof level. A hand was waving from behind a deck chair, its back facing them. The man was turning in his chair, craning to see who had interrupted his solitude.
Well, whoever this is he's pretty trusting.
Edsel stepped out in front of the deck chair, to see who they had interrupted.
Maybe not so trusting after all.
The man held a pistol firmly in a slender hand that was darkly tanned. He was stripped down to a pair of denim shorts and clearly spent a lot of his time sunning himself. He was deep golden brown like a chestnut, skin shining, with pale wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His white hair was in stark contrast to his dark skin, and the weirdest thing of all was that he seemed perfectly relaxed, if a little cautious, which was more than understandable.
So, the first person we meet and he could kill us all if he wanted.
Edsel did something he never really got the feel for and spoke via The Noise. I told you to wait at the door. If he's unfriendly he could kill us all.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Let's not be so carefree in the future, okay?
The man was staring at them funnily, clearly wondering why they were standing there mute.
Guess I should introduce us, it's only polite.
"Hi, I'm Edsel. Sorry about the interruption, we didn't expect anyone to be here." Edsel paused, suddenly thinking back over the years, a chance encounter trying to surface in his memory. "Do I know you? Have we met before?"
"I don't think so, although I have met a few people in my time, and I'm not as young as I once was. My name is Michael, pleased to meet you." Michael lowered the gun and got to his feet, surprisingly sprightly for someone of his age — he must have been in his seventies.
Where do I know him from? It's not like I've met hundreds of people. He's the first in five years. What's that smell?
"I know you," said Aiden. "Oh, hi, I'm Aiden, and this is Lash."
"Pleased to meet you Aiden. And Lash, that's a rather harsh name for such a beautiful lady." Michael shook Aiden's hand, and kissed Lash's.
"Her real name's Lashae," said Aiden, stepping away so he didn't get a whack around the head.
"Lashae, how beautiful."
"Well, thank you, and nice to meet you Michael, but everyone calls me Lash. Everyone."
There it is, there's that hard stare you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of.
"If you insist," said Michael, smiling widely, the personification of a gentleman, even if he did only have a pair of shorts on. "Now young man, how do you know me? I certainly don't recall."
"It was five years ago, we were in a car, passing through a town in Wales. We nearly hit you when you were crossing the road."
Ah, that's it. He's got a good memory. Coconut oil, that's the smell. He uses it to tan.
"Well, that is a coincidence I must say. I do get around quite a lot. So much to see and do."
"Do you live here now?" asked Edsel, wondering how the man had managed to stay alive so long if he traveled alone, and a lot, judging by the large muscles in his calves even though he was of very slight build.
"In the penthouse, yes. I gave the whole building a good clean and my home is very comfortable now, but I'm not staying permanently. This is just one of the many places I seem to come back to for a bit of a rest. Would you like to come and have a drink with me? I have coffee you know."
Coffee, what I wouldn't give for a cuppa. It's been years.
Lash was practically salivating at the mouth, Aiden wasn't overly impressed as he'd never gotten the taste for it, but Edsel found it hard to not drool down his chin.
"That would be lovely. Thank you Michael, most generous." Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Edsel was sure she was flirting with Michael the way she kept fluttering those huge eyelashes of hers and repeatedly brushed her hair with the tips of her fingers.
"Well, come along then. I can put some more clothes on too. It's hardly appropriate when I have company to be walking around like this."
It's not weird, it's not weird. This is just what it's supposed to be like when you meet people.
Edsel tried to convince himself, but he couldn't shake the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach.
It's just because you've been in your own little bubble for so long.
HOST
Michael was the perfect host, and he and Aiden seemed to really hit it off almost immediately. Michael was one of those men that really enjoyed telling stories, and he had plenty to tell. Aiden would sit and listen with total focus, soaking up tales of meetings with other people, encounters with Eventuals and all manner of what were obviously exaggerated, if not totally made up tales. It didn't matter though, it was what Aiden needed: a new person to talk to, reminders of what the country was like now, and what it had been like before. All from a different perspective, from an older man who had a lot more life experience and had stayed at the heart of what was left of society, however fragmented it was.
Michael invited them to take up residence in his home, saying that he planned to stay put for a few weeks maybe, just rest, sunbathe and sit on the roof. He'd had enough adventure for a little while and was physically tired from so much traveling, so he was doing what he often did — picking a comfortable home and staying for anything from a few days to a few weeks, usually until he got bored or felt himself suitably rejuvenated.
It seemed like Michael had a few favorite places that he took his time to make as comfortable as possible, stocked with necessities, then visited again when his travels took him in the appropriate direction. This was one of his favorites and there was no doubt the view was stunning, the apartment comfortable.
He was a generous man, and after a little discussion they had decided to take him up on his offer. To Edsel it didn't seem like they had a choice anyway. Aiden fell straight into Michael's company and it was evening before they knew it, so with no other plans they agreed to stay.
The next few days saw Aiden and Michael spend a lot of time together, and all four of them wandered around the town with Michael pointing out things of interest, also discussing where would be best to travel to and what they could expect.
Edsel was surprised to hear that Michael traveled quite as much as he did, thinking that the more you did then the higher the risk of encountering people you really should try to avoid. But Michael seemed to think of things differently, obviously a keen adventurer believing that the new things he learned were more than worth the risk. He had to admit it, he admired the old man.
Once they felt settled and had brought more of their belongings from the boat into the apartment, Edsel began to understand just how much he had missed being surrounded by what was, after all, home. It was as if life on the island had put them into a kind of happy stupor, wrapped in cotton wool, happy, but forgetting what else there was to life. Now they were back it was clear that all three of them missed what they had thought best to leave behind. Yet there was the constant worry about Aiden and Lash — Edsel's experiences over the years were still too much of a reminder of quite how dangerous life could be, even for the wary.
Edsel was the first to admit that it came as quite a surprise that he was enjoying being back. He'd hated it when they first arrived, but the old familiarity was a comfort, and there was no denying that it felt like he belonged. But there was still fear.
After a few days even the fears faded somewhat, and Edsel began to understand that he was enjoying having company, hearing Michael's tall tales, and the concerns over their safety seemed to wake up his body, bring it back to l
ife, almost like a high when rock climbing.
I need this. I wanted this. Aiden was right.
~~~
Two days after their arrival, and after walking around the town and getting to know their base of operations, it was time to begin exploring in earnest. Michael decided to stay behind, so Edsel, Lash and Aiden packed up some supplies, loaded up three bicycles that would have cost a month's wages back when they were state of the art mountain bikes weighing just a few ounces, and set off for a few days exploring, with the intention of camping as and when they found somewhere that took their fancy.
As Edsel pedaled gently and stared to the left at Lash and Aiden, he was overcome by just how normal he felt. It was like they were a proper family — off for a day of cycling, a picnic and then camping for the night.
Like ordinary people do. Or did, anyway.
Edsel smiled, actually looking forward to the days ahead, pleased that Aiden had convinced them to leave their safe but quiet lives behind.
Adventure. I missed it.
Lash smiled back at him, eyes shining, hair blowing behind her, before she began to pedal hard, speeding off in front. "Come on, I'll race you. Last one to the next village has to make supper."
"You two are too old, you'll never beat me!" shouted Aiden, smiling giddily, racing to catch up with Lash.
"You both better watch out, here I come." Edsel pedaled hard, laughing as he could see that Lash was already getting tired.
Well, it's been a while since we rode bikes.
NICE
They arrived at a small village by early afternoon; hot, sweaty, tired and happy. Aiden was clearly enjoying the day immensely, coming alive like Edsel hadn't seen in years, actually forgetting how full of energy Aiden was, or used to be.
Am I the same? Have we been living a half life just so we can stay safe?
Edsel knew the answer, and just looking at Lash he could tell that she was thinking similar thoughts. However dangerous it was to be living somewhere other people could be encountered, the fact was that it had brought them back to life.
They were enjoying themselves. Edsel had believed he would never miss seeing a road, a crumbling building or a dead corpse in the street, and to some extent he was right, but there was more, much more to the country of his birth than death and deprivation. There were boats and marinas and piers. There were seagulls and memories of fish and chips and ice-cream. There were fine buildings still standing, and there were a multitude of plants and animals, insects and changes to the landscape that took your breath away — they'd locked all of that out of their lives, convinced themselves that they missed none of it.
We were wrong. I was wrong. This is a part of us, it's in our blood.
Edsel slowed to a halt, coasting to a stop to pull up beside Lash and Aiden. They were at the edge of a large flat expanse of grass that was impossibly short, lush beyond belief, and as flat as a sheet of just-printed paper.
"It's a bowling green," said Edsel. "An actual bowling green. No way."
"Well, it's obvious someone is maintaining it, and doing a damn fine job of it too," said Lash, getting off her bike and resting it on the ground. Edsel and Aiden did the same and all three of them stared in amazement at a sight that was once common in every town and village in the United Kingdom.
"I used to love bowls, even if it was an old man's game really," said Edsel. "They had a small bowling green in the park back home, and we used to go there every day in the summer."
"I don't get it, what's it for?" asked Aiden.
"I guess you are too young to have ever seen one, or one like this anyway," said Edsel. "It's for a game. Think of it like a snooker table, you know about that, right?" Aiden nodded his head. "Good. But instead of green felt there is perfect grass, usually mowed twice a day and as flat as the snooker table. You have a small white ball called a jack that you put at the far end of the green, and then you have a number of larger black balls, kind of weirdly shaped, that you roll down the bowling green. Whoever gets their ball closest to the white jack is the winner."
"Sounds cool. So the grass has to be cut all the time to keep it looking like this?"
"Oh yeah, it takes a load of work to maintain. They roller it, sow new seed, feed it, mow it, all that kind of stuff. And this one is exceptional."
"Which means..." offered Lash.
"Which means that somebody is going to be along any minute to mow the grass," finished Edsel.
"Should we hide?"
"I don't think so. I can't imagine that anyone who feels this strongly about keeping the grass neat is going to turn out to be too much of a threat."
They left their bikes and walked over to the pavilion, in just as good condition as the grass, and settled down on the benches, silent, admiring the perfection of a true artist.
Edsel let his mind wander, lost in thoughts of perfect summers where the holiday from school felt like it stretched out in front of him for eternity, but then always seemed to be over in a flash. He thought back to friends and the games they'd played: football, baseball, even bowls. The game turned out to be really enjoyable, even though they had always made fun of the old men and women dressed in their white outfits, taking it all so seriously.
"Edsel. Edsel," said Lash, nudging him in the ribs.
"Eh? Oh, this is going to be interesting."
Now that is about the most surreal sight I think I have ever seen.
Two men and one woman were approaching the pavilion, dressed in the obligatory white clothes of all those serious about their game of bowls. Each of them held a brightly colored bag that would contain their bowls, and they held onto them like they were the most important thing in the world. When they spotted Edsel and his family they stopped and put their heads together, talking in hushed whispers.
One of the men stepped forward.
"We don't want any trouble; we just want to play a game or two."
"That's good because we don't want any trouble either. We were just admiring the bowling green, that takes some serious commitment," said Edsel.
The man was instantly animated, although he stared nervously at Edsel's arms, clearly worried about what it signified. "Do you play? It does get a bit tedious always having to play against the same opponent. There's only the three of us."
"I used to, a long time ago. Haven't for years though. Anyway, allow me to introduce myself, and my family."
Introductions were made and Edsel couldn't shake the feeling that it was just all too surreal to actually be happening. But it was — they played game after game of bowls with the three enthusiasts until the sky began to darken and it was time to finish for the day.
They got directions to somewhere they could set up camp for the night, refusing the hospitality of the three people, wanting to leave on a happy note, not wishing to intrude. As they said their goodbyes, the trio wished them well on their travels and with that they were gone, back to their home, only to return again the next day to maintain the bowling green and play in the peace and quiet they all said they had really been enjoying ever since they found themselves the only people left in the village.
~~~
"Well? Are you glad you came?" asked Aiden, eyes shining from the light of the campfire.
They'd set up their tents, got a nice fire going, and after eating a simple evening meal they were just sat around, chatting, enjoying the company as if for the first time in years.
"I think you know me better than I know myself," said Edsel. "I hate to admit it but meeting nice people these last few days has been just what I needed. It's a reminder that not everything is bad, not everyone either. There is still good left, and there are people trying their best to help keep things going. I like it."
"Me too," said Aiden. "I know you worry about me, about everything really, but this is what life is about. Doing things, seeing things, meeting people. Even if it is a risk."
"You're right Aiden, and we are sorry," said Lash. "We thought it for the best, but hiding away isn't the an
swer. Those people today were lovely, and they've managed all right since The Lethargy. And Michael is nice too, so it was worth coming. Maybe it will even cure Edsel of his insane hobby of climbing rocks."
Edsel ignored the harsh stare, or at least tried to, but Lash kept on looking at him in that way of hers. "Okay, maybe you're right. Maybe I do need the rush, something going on. I never thought about it that way before, but you could be right. This is good for us, all of us. But it can't last forever you know?"
He's not going to like this.
"What do you mean? Why not?" Aiden didn't look too impressed.
"Because the more you travel, the greater the risk. You know that. At some point you have to think about safety, and it may not be the most exciting thing in the world but that is what happens when you have others to look after."
"You won't go back now though, will you? Back and hide away from everything, same thing every day? No new people, no new things."
"Honestly? We haven't discussed it yet Aiden. It's only been a few days, let's see what happens and how we feel after a few weeks. For now can we just enjoy ourselves but always be on guard? Not everybody is as nice as those people today. We all know this; I don't need to remind you of what life was like for us in the past do I?"
"No, you don't. I just thought you were beginning to enjoy yourself, to like being back, even if everything isn't perfect."
"I definitely am, which I have to tell you buddy, has come as quite a surprise. Let's all take each day as it comes and go along for the ride. Okay?"
"Okay, sure." Aiden put another log on the fire and stared deep into the flames.
I am enjoying it, I never though I would but I am. But for how long? Something will go wrong, it always does.
Edsel turned and looked at Lash, who just smiled at him and shrugged, telling him that Aiden would be all right, and that she didn't really know what to think about the life they were now living either.
We will have to have a serious talk about this.
